<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Soft Touch and a Prom King Walk into a Bar ... by quasiouster (QuasiOuster)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286490">A Soft Touch and a Prom King Walk into a Bar ...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuasiOuster/pseuds/quasiouster'>quasiouster (QuasiOuster)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Good Doctor (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:34:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuasiOuster/pseuds/quasiouster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Short vignettes in the development of Claire and Neil's friendship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Claire Browne &amp; Neil Melendez, Claire Browne/Neil Melendez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>155</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Bar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is what I got up to last night after a day of cleaning. The goal was to write something short, but I don't think I'm capable of that, LOL. Each chapter is its own scene, and they'll be out of order as I fiddle with each draft. I'll post as I edit and as long as the ideas keep coming -- starting with at least a couple tonight. I technically can't watch the show until tomorrow since I don't get a live broadcast, so it'll keep me busy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After Neil makes himself comfortable in the seat next to Claire, he orders another beer, a little sheepishly given how abruptly he’d left five minutes before. The bartender wisely holds his tongue about it, though he does nothing to hide a smirk as he delivers the full glass.</p><p>Claire mulls over the menu, commenting on this option or that: the mussels might be nice but maybe a little messy; a salad easily dismissed as not satisfying enough. Or you couldn’t go wrong with pasta, she decided. In the end, she opts for the gnocchi while he orders the pork loin.</p><p>
  <em>‘This is not you, and it’s not right.’</em>
</p><p>With the distraction of their dinner choices resolved, Neil wonders if he should say something about his decision to return to the restaurant. It does worry him, Lim’s admonition and Park’s furtive, annoyed glances over the past couple of weeks at his support for Claire. And Claire had a point. He’d overcompensated today, and they were all worse off for it. If he allows himself to speculate about who’d made the favoritism complaint, Park is a likely source, though it doesn’t seem his style.</p><p>
  <em>‘You’re trying to play it safe, and it’s hurting things.’</em>
</p><p>He doesn’t think he favors Claire, he just knows her really well, even better since they started running together. Each of his residents has their own quirks and rhythms and he responds to them in different ways. With Murphy, patience is a virtue and a reward for his brilliance. Positive reinforcement helps tone down some of Morgan's more competitive tendencies. Park liked a straight-forward approach and hard facts over intuition. And Claire? Well, he trusts her to do what's right and to push him to innovate and empathize in equal measures. He isn’t arrogant enough to think himself above bias. And unfortunately, he knows well and good that the rumors he and Claire are dealing with aren't about intention but appearances. In hindsight, he could have conducted himself less casually and more carefully when it came to Claire, not been so quick to back her up in front of Park the way he's been doing.</p><p>Maybe he needs to make more of an effort with the others. Or maybe … he doesn’t know the answer. The whole situation has become too weird, and he doesn’t want to deal with any of it.</p><p>And, of course, there remains the sting of his failed relationship with Audrey as proof that work relationships complicated things, especially one with your boss. He knows more than anyone the cost of those boundaries blurring. And Claire had gotten caught in a true shitstorm with an attending who'd tried taking advantage of her – and he doesn’t want anyone putting him in the same category as Coyle. The rules are there for a reason, Neil knows that.</p><p>
  <em>‘It’s not who you are. Or at least it’s not who I thought you were.’</em>
</p><p>The friendship he shares with Claire is something he’s proud of, that he knows is a good thing. When he’d taken her on that first run, he’d chosen to cross a line into the personal, to be there for someone who needed help out of a dark place. It wasn’t that long ago when he’d told Glassman that personal ties like the ones he’s embracing with Claire was a sure way of screwing things up. And the old man had once again been right about how the personal ties make it matter. Or at least that’s what it feels like whenever he spends time with her. But their careers? Their reputations? Everything they’ve worked hard to achieve is now subject to speculation and rumor. Is it worth it?</p><p>Why did he come back into the restaurant when he could have driven off like any other sane person would have given all the red flags?</p><p>
  <em>‘We can be friends and have it not be weird.’</em>
</p><p>He’d made his choice. The least he could do now is enjoy it.</p><p>Turning toward Claire as she sips her fancy cocktail, he teases her about the fussiness of her drink. It earns him a good dose of the mock indignation and humor he’s hoping for. Her smile automatically triggers one of his own, and he can sense her gratitude for making an effort to ease the awkwardness between them. Shaking her head, she asks him about his favorite cocktail, which leads to a discussion of the best cocktail bars in the city. Eventually, they fall into their usual easy conversation, part friendly banter, part unveiling of more small details into their lives.</p><p>Their food arrives in the middle of a debate about different surgical techniques in other countries. By the time they’ve gotten their check – split between them, of course – it’s as if the last 24 hours hasn’t happened. They part ways at her car, she jokes about his stubbornness, and congratulates him on a successful evening as her mentor and friend. And she thanks him for taking the chance on her, an almost shy admission before she steps into her car and drives off.</p><p>He’s wondered all night what made him return to her side. Why share an evening alone with his resident despite his reservations and the potential dangers to their relationships on the job – the dangers to their relationship with each other if he’s being honest with himself.</p><p>Yet, this time when he climbs back into his own car, his answer comes to him so clearly.</p><p>
  <em>‘You don’t have to run away just because I’m here.’</em>
</p><p>Remembering the last expression on her face of warmth and friendship and gratitude directed at him, he knows. To be <em>that</em> to her. That’s why he came back. And he’ll do it again and again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. ... or a Stairwell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neil sits with her for almost an hour on that stairwell, close enough to comfort but with a respectful distance so as not to crowd.</p><p>Shocked and shook by the intensity of Claire’s sobs, it takes Neil a moment to pass her the towel Park had given him when he saw Neil go after her. He’d also assured Neil that he’d finish rounds and contact him if anything came up. They both knew that at the moment, Claire needed him more. As far as Neil understood, Claire and Park were friends, but Park freely admitted being better at tough love than nurturing comfort. And maybe Claire would open up to Neil in a way she hadn’t with her peers.</p><p>So, he sits and waits, holds her shoulder until he feels the shaking recede. In its place, a weariness settles on her as she leans against the wall and wipes at her face with the towel. Although they hear the echo of steps farther up, no one passes by their section of the stairwell. People rarely use the second floor access with it being so out of the way and with two closer alternatives at both ends of the hospital floor. When Neil is sure the tears have subsided, he moves down a step, remaining above her so she won’t have to face him if she doesn’t want to – and also a signal of his openness to listening if she wants to talk. She glances over quickly, eyes red, face blotchy and filled with sadness yet still so pretty. </p><p>Something has broken her. And realizing that it had happened right under his nose, that guts him.</p><p>After a few moments, Claire sniffles and, in profile, he sees an attempt at a weak smile. “I’m really sorr—”</p><p>“No, don’t apologize. You get to have feelings, even at work.”</p><p>She snorts and looks away. “Not like this. I just …” Sighing, she seems unable to finish the thought, likely unsure herself of how she feels. “My mom died,” she abruptly says, the revelation sounding course and hollow in the echo of the stairwell.</p><p>“Oh Claire, I …” This time, Neil feels like the one who can’t find the right words.</p><p>Of course, he'd heard about Claire and her mother's complicated, mostly traumatic relationship. They'd only met the one time when Breeze Browne serenaded and charmed the staff while waiting for Claire to answer her page. The playful, carefree woman seemed hard to reconcile with his sketchy impression of her from when he'd first bumbled onto the subject with Claire. That night, and every other time her mother came up, he'd notice this haunting, sad resignation to her. Yet he also had a vague memory of her mother staying with her a few months ago – he’d raised a humorous eyebrow as he’d approved Claire’s request for outpatient addiction screening that allowed her to regularly administer a drug test as a condition of her staying. Thinking back on that, he realizes she hasn’t mentioned anything about the woman in months. Now he knows why.</p><p>Claire does genuinely smile at his stammering. “Don’t worry, I haven’t figured out myself whether it calls for condolences or relief or … whatever,” she waves absently over the ambiguity.</p><p>“It’s still a difficult thing to deal with no matter how you feel about it from day to day.”</p><p>“Or moment to moment,” she scoffs. Tensing again, she flashes him another furtive glance. “I do need to apologize for my personal problems getting dragged into work. I …”</p><p>Neil allows the silence to linger between them, letting her talk – or not talk as she wants. He has so many questions and things he wants her to tell him. But it can wait. He’ll do what he can to let her know she doesn’t have to carry the weight on her shoulders alone.</p><p>“Claire, you don’t have to talk about anything right now if you don’t want to. But if you do, it’s not going to change my opinion of you or my respect for you as a colleague.”</p><p>He notices her deflate at that. “I was with him last night. The patient. I should have said something. It’s how I knew about the MDMA.” She glances at him again, worry filling her expression. But Neil remains neutral, committed to keeping an open mind. “He told me this morning that he took it,” she quickly adds. “I don’t do that kind of thing. Never have.”</p><p>Neil nods and waits for her to continue.</p><p>“It was supposed to be the best day of my career. My first surgery was a success. My mom and I were working on our relationship. I’d managed to help out my colleagues and my friends were doing well and it was everything I wanted for myself. I thought I’d finally be happy.”</p><p>Nothing described like that ever ends well, Neil thinks to himself and braces for the worst. Looking down at Claire, he can see her doing the same even knowing – having lived – the experience of the terrible story unfolding.</p><p>“My mom texts me how proud she is of me and leaves me this sweet voicemail to congratulate me." Claire laughs bitterly, wiping at her eyes again. "Then she finds the one bottle of booze I hadn’t thrown out; that I’d hidden because I selfishly wanted to save something special for myself. And she thought, ‘hey wouldn’t it be a great idea to drink a whole bottle of champagne in my car and then wrap it around a pole? Won’t that be a nice surprise for Claire? End the day with a bang.'”</p><p>“Jesus.” Even the warning signs hadn’t prepared him for something so terrible. He notices fresh tears flowing freely down her cheeks now.</p><p>“Why didn’t I just put it in my car or throw it out with the others?" she cries. "I spent so much of my life taking care of her and hating her for it. It was this crappy co-dependency, always rearing its ugly head when I least wanted it. And now I don’t even have that. I’m all alone, and it’s at least partly my fault.”</p><p>She turns away from him, avoiding showing him her pain, but also failing to see the sympathy he feels for her. “Claire, you have to know that it’s not on you. Your mom was her own person.”</p><p>“It doesn’t help to know that. The only thing that’s helped is pushing it so far away that it can’t touch me. And what happened last night? That’s what I do now. I go to bars, I have a lot of drinks, I pick up guys. And it keeps me from being in that apartment by myself thinking about one of the last things she said to me. About how she told herself to ‘Just be like Claire.’ And then she goes and gets herself killed.”</p><p>She starts sobbing once more, and it breaks Neil’s heart all over again. He moves down another step and puts his arm around her, uncaring about anyone seeing them this way. To his satisfaction, Claire immediately leans into his shoulder, crying quietly.</p><p>Neil lightly rubs her arm, feeling his own eyes tear up a bit at witnessing her misery. For a moment, he thinks Audrey or Glassman would be so much better than him at dealing with this and knowing the right thing to say. But they aren’t here. And while he's sure they both like the good-natured, talented resident, they don’t know Claire like he does. Don’t care about her in the same way.</p><p>The only thing he can think to do is to be honest with her.</p><p>“I don’t know what’ll make you feel better. Or if those words even exist. I do know that you’re a good person. One of the best I know. I have no doubt you were a good daughter. And you’re struggling right now. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”</p><p>“No, I'm glad you haven't seen me like this," she sobbed. "You've been busy with other things - real things - and I’ve been a total mess. I’d hate it if you thought of me as some kind of …”</p><p>He squeezes her gently, not letting her finish that thought. “We’re all a mess sometimes. And you have a better reason than most. You feel cornered and exposed. I get it. It makes you human, though. You’ll get through this, hour by hour, day by day, until this pain and everything that’s come about because of it is just another thing you’ve overcome to be the wonderful person you are.”</p><p>Neil thinks of his own struggles in the past few months. Having to explain to a stunned husband and father how he’s failed so miserably as a surgeon. Having his heart broken out of the blue again. Ending another relationship because they insist they love him too much to cause him pain, but really it’s because he isn’t good enough to be who they need.</p><p>He’d said those words to Claire, but meant it for the both of them.</p><p>They sit side by side, Claire’s tears eventually drying up and his side cooling from her moving out of his embrace. After a while, she wipes at her face once more with the towel and smiles shyly at him, a quiet reassurance that she’s okay. He tells her to go home – their shift is almost over and he and Park could handle the rest of the day’s work. She nods and silently leaves his side, slipping out the first floor door without looking back.</p><p>Neil remains sitting there for a few more minutes after she’s gone. Stunned. Exhausted. And so sad for the young woman whose happiness and well-being he’s come to care about.</p><p>Finally, he returns to the patient floor and catches up with Park, carefully avoiding any of the nurses’ prodding eyes. No one asks about what happened, although surely there’s a lot of speculation. He has no intention of confirming any idle gossip and suspects Park won’t either. The nurses generally like Claire, so maybe they just also want to know that she’s okay.</p><p>Later, coming out of the locker room after showering and changing clothes, he catches a glimpse of Claire enveloped in a full bear hug from Park. Before he walks out, he overhears his other resident telling Claire to call him if she needs anything, no judgement. “I got your back, Kid,” Park says, making her smile.</p><p>He still has a bunch of paperwork to complete and his stomach reminds him that he needs dinner soon. Before he can leave, he’ll have to meet with Audrey about the report she’s no doubt seen of a patient assaulting a staff member. That’ll require his dancing around the issue a bit. Yet, he knows he’s done a good thing today, something he knows is important to Claire and to himself.</p><p>That’s what bosses do.</p><p>A ghost of discomfort at the thought flits across his nerves, slowing his pace for a moment before he dismisses it and continues on to his office.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. ... or a Lounge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claire and Neil are sitting in the lounge next to his office waiting for a room to open up so they can insert a lumbar drain into their medical mystery patient. Shaun had suggested it to test his theory about a diagnosis ... and then disappeared on some undisclosed personal business that Neil thinks involves a good deal of lovesick idiocy. When Claire had checked, the scheduling nurse told her a room would be available in the next ten minutes. Until they got the call, it didn’t make sense to prep since the staff would still have to sterilize the room – that’d give him and Claire time to get their patient and themselves ready. Both are quietly reading during the downtime.</p><p>Or at least Claire is. He can’t get the bizarre conversation with Shaun out of his mind.</p><p>“Whatever he’s planning, Murphy is going to go overboard.” Claire looks up at Neil from where she sits reading yet another journal article to figure out their patient’s medical mystery. </p><p>He's not crazy about discussing his love-life at work. That his last two relationships involved co-workers made him prime gossip-fodder. The one time he’d gone TMI on Claire early in her residency had been a little horrifying, although she’d put him at ease about it and even offered him some sage advice. Though they've been spending a lot of time together lately, strangely, they don't really talk about his relationship with Audrey. Claire doesn’t ask, and well, he doesn’t generally feel up to revisiting that pain. He makes a mental note to revisit that thought. If anyone can empathize with talking about pain you'd rather ignore, it's Claire.</p><p>Oblivious to Neil’s inner monologue, Claire frowns, considering his prediction about Shaun and nods. “Yeah, probably,” she responds, now grinning at him. “He’s annoyingly romantic that way even though he’d never admit it and insist he’s being perfectly analytical.” She returns to reading her journal article. He notices she seems not exactly distracted, but a little rattled. Probably seeing Dash again stirred up some emotions about her late friend and all the recent grief she's endured.</p><p>“Annoyingly?” he says laughing. “What do you have against romance?”</p><p>She closes the journal and tosses it in the “useless” pile they’d created on the table and grabs another volume. “I don’t have anything against it, per se, I just hate romantics.”</p><p>Neil is a bit appalled. “Hate? Really?”</p><p>“Hate. Definitely,” she confirms.</p><p>This is news to him. Although, he wouldn’t call it a surprise. He’s known Claire for nearly three years, and while she has one of the biggest hearts he’s seen in a human being and succumbs regularly to sentimental flights of fancy for her patients, he’s never seen that extended to any mentions of her own love life. It’d been a particular problem with poor, lovesick Jared Kalu. Claire strikes him as more a 'casual relationship' type of person. Not that he thinks anything is wrong with that. Yet, it still kind of confuses him at times, truth be told.</p><p>Dropping the article he’s been reading on the desk, Neil swivels his chair around, ready to challenge this new piece of information about her. “I’m not buying this either. Last month, you staged a fake prom to support young love. You role play dating scenarios with Murphy. And I’ve heard you talk with authority about the current slate of rom-coms on the market. And now you hate romantics?”</p><p>She shrugs. “I don’t hate other people’s romance. It’s just not for me.”</p><p>“Alright.” Neil shakes his head, skeptical and not understanding the woman next to him at all right now.</p><p>“Besides,” Claire continues. “I can’t get over the idea that romantics are hiding something, all that emphasis on making a gesture. Frankly, it’s creepy. And most men are just plain bad at it. Trying too hard or not trying hard enough because essentially, they’re only pretending to care so they can get laid.”</p><p>“Wow.” Neil stares at her until she turns her attention to him. “That is certainly a strong opinion. There is a lot to unpack there.” She shrugs again, smirking. “So, you think Shaun is creepy?”</p><p>“Uh, no. Shaun is trying, and probably not quite succeeding, at making an effort. But he’s hiding something for sure. He pretty much said so with all that talk about concealing your bad qualities from the person you want to fall in love with you.”</p><p>He hands her the article he’d just discarded to add to the “useless” pile and checks the time. They should be getting a call any minute. “I didn’t hear you piping up with any advice while I got grilled.”</p><p>Claire laughs “He asked you, not me. And excuse me, I’m the one who helped him get a girlfriend in the first place. You’re just annoyed that I hate romantics, but I’m still really good at the romance thing. You probably think I’m wasting my talents.”</p><p>“I don’t know about that, but say you’re dating a guy and after a long day at work, you come home to a nice dinner with candles and wine and your favorite music and dessert. Are you saying you’d shut that down?”</p><p>Claire thinks about it for a second. “If a guy I was dating did that for me, knowing that I hated romantics, then I’d humor him, eat the dinner, drink the wine, <em>maybe</em> put out, and then break up with him the next day.”</p><p>Neil breaks into peals of laughter at that. He can kind of picture Claire doing that. “You are cold!”</p><p>Claire seems unbothered by the accusation. “You’re just uncomfortable because everyone knows you’re a big romantic. You don’t like that I’m dissing your game.”</p><p>“My game!”</p><p>“Yes, your game. I think I know you pretty well by now. And I dare you to tell me you aren’t a Valentine’s Day loving, long walks on a beach at sunset having, ‘his’ and ‘her’ robe wearing romantic.”</p><p>“’His and her robes’ huh?” Neil cracks up again. “Is that what you think of my ‘game’?” Claire’s stern expression and raised brow challenge him to disagree. No, she isn’t wrong. He <em>does</em> really like Valentine’s Day and sunsets. And he might be open to matching robes.</p><p>“You, Neil Melendez, are a romantic. Accept it. <em>Embrace</em> it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”</p><p>“Except for all of the ways you just trashed it.”</p><p>“I wasn’t trashing it, I was just telling you why it’s not for me. You do you.”</p><p>“Fine, I will.”</p><p>“Fine.” Both try and fail to look put out while hiding their enjoyment of such a silly argument.</p><p>Finally, Claire picks up another journal article and pretends to read and he scrolls through his phone checking for messages he knows won’t be there.</p><p>Only a minute later, Neil decides to stir the pot a little more. “So how would you have answered Murphy about getting a friend to fall in love with you.” He’s genuinely curious about what might make Claire tick on that front.</p><p>“Aha!” Claire says, pointing at him. “I wouldn’t have answered because it’s a trick question. If you’re trying to get your friend to fall in love with you, I don’t know if you can still call that being friends.”</p><p>“What? That makes no sense. You’re saying that you have two people who are legitimate friends but if one of them develops feelings, that makes them not friends anymore?” Neil doesn’t even have to pretend to be incredulous for the sake of their sparring. “You are going to have so much to dissect with your therapist this week,” he muses, grinning again.</p><p>“Shut up,” she says, throwing a balled up piece of scrap paper at him, both chuckling. “I just think once feelings develop, it turns into something else, something weird.”</p><p>“And you are the authority on what makes a friendship weird or not?” He levels a pointed gaze at her, all humor and smugness in that tilt of his head to the side. “As in unrequited feelings in a friendship are weird, but a boss being friends with a subordinate—”</p><p>“—better than an inferior,” she adds, smiling at the memory of one of their first arguments long ago. “Or better yet <em>colleague</em>. And that is totally different as you know.” she argues indignantly.</p><p>Neil agrees, but enjoys riling her up over the point.</p><p>“What I mean,” she explains, “is that when only one person wants romance, then you have to question their motives. The things they do, maybe it’s not about the friendship anymore. It’s about manipulation or maybe getting a certain kind of attention or reaction. Or more likely, getting in their pants. It’s not necessarily about what’s best for the other person or the friendship.” She sighs, a sudden weight in their otherwise friendly banter. “And then somebody will ultimately get hurt.”</p><p>“Or the other person discovers they feel the same way, or at least discovers a reason to explore feeling the same way. And then they live happily ever after for a while.” Neil shakes his head. “I think people and friendships are mature enough to take a chance.”</p><p>Claire snickers. “Your funeral, Dr. Romantic.” She goes back to reading her article, ignoring his glare.</p><p>“How have you not written a blockbuster self-help book sharing such wisdom.” He returns to scrolling through his phone, muttering about her being a buzzkill. Yet, he can’t keep the grin off his face over their debate and a sideways glance in her direction reveals her lingering humor as well.</p><p>“Just so we’re clear,” he adds a few moments later, “you’re not my type either.” Claire cackles joyously at that, Neil's own smile widening as well.</p><p>“Noted.” She flips her head back towards him and smirks, a little too wickedly for his liking. “Although, I could be convinced—”</p><p>Neil’s phone rings, interrupting their banter. Turning away from Claire’s bright eyes twinkling with mischief, he confirms their room is ready. He hangs up and begins reordering their patient’s case file.</p><p>He wonders what she’d been about to say. He’ll never admit it, but it bruises his ego a little bit to hear that Claire doesn’t find him appealing in the usual ways. Certainly, they have a good rapport and, at times, engage in a back and forth that some could call flirting. In a harmless, mostly professional way, of course. He has a point too that she isn’t the typical type to catch his eye. He thinks Claire is very attractive – a natural beauty full of youthful exuberance that’s matured alluringly over time. And she's brilliant, which he finds quite attractive. But he tends to favor tall, model-esque, assertive women. They match well with his admitted arrogance and swagger. There have been some amazing women in his life as romantic partners, several of whom he’d loved deeply. But he wouldn’t call any of them warm, nor does he seek that out.</p><p>Claire on the other hand, embodies pretty much the opposite of the women he’s dated. Her tiny stature amuses him, especially when he towers over her, even in heels. Although, he has first-hand experience with her assertiveness, it’s only one of her many qualities that give her a quiet authority. And her compassion, her warmth, her spirit and loyalty, are unlike anyone he’s ever gotten close to.</p><p>Not that he should be thinking about one of his residents like this. It’s bad enough that when Dash showed up, he’d eyeballed her friend as if sizing up the competition.</p><p>Claire stands at the doorway, a question in her expression over his slow pace. He grabs their patient’s file and joins her, walking towards the elevator. As it arrives, he holds the door open to give last-minute instructions.</p><p>“You can head down and update the patient while I sign off on the procedure.” </p><p>She nods. “Sure, I’ll have Nurse Delilah bring her over and then join you.” Claire presses her floor and waits for him to release the door.</p><p>“And just one more thing, Claire.” Her expressive, soft eyes, swing up to meet his gaze, curious, yet cautious. When he has her full attention, he flashes his most charming smirk her way. “I don’t want you to be surprised when it happens, but try not to feel bad when you’re the only one who doesn’t get a Valentine next year. You only have yourself to blame.”</p><p>He then lets go of the door and stands with a dumb grin on his face as the elevator closes – long enough to see Claire’s exaggerated frown as she simulates an imaginary tear by drawing a finger down the line of her cheek. His eyes follow the trail of her touch against smooth skin, flushed and rosy with delight.</p><p>But her final peals of laughter are what linger in his ears as he walks away, smiling.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. ... or a Bowling Alley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claire takes deep swallows of the beer Neil had waiting for her, throwing back almost half of it in one pull.</p><p>“Tough day,” he calls over his shoulder as he deposits his ball onto the rack, a grin pulling at his lips. He’d already found the ball she’d used last time – a small but heavy hot pink orb, marbled and garish like a psychedelic wad of chewing gum. It's not something you forget.</p><p>When they’d been here about six months ago, things had been so different, mostly that he and Audrey had still been together and figuring out how to handle work and a relationship. Nurse Paikin had rented out the whole place for her birthday, and missing some of her co-workers since taking a job at SF Muni the previous year, she’d invited a few to her party. That included a handful of the ER nurses as well as him, Lim, Claire, and Park who’d brought his visiting ex-wife. Originally, Claire had planned on playing with the nurses about ten lanes over, having no desire to linger on her colleagues' unintentional double date. But Lim had gotten stuck in surgery, so he'd convinced Claire to defect and they'd played a shockingly high scoring, competitive couple of games. Park still teases them about how vicious they got with each other. Claire had beaten him both times by five points and then 25 points, about which she’d been annoyingly smug.</p><p>The recollection led him to briefly consider sabotaging her with a lighter ball.</p><p>Claire joins him at the ball rack to inspect the ball he’s chosen for her, understandably suspicious. At mid-week, there aren’t too many people in the bowling alley. That doesn’t stop the owners from committing to the party vibe on a Tuesday night when the place isn’t as packed. Colored lights bounce against every surface in the dim room, and the beams sweep loudly across the colorful print of Claire’s bright floral blouse.</p><p>Neil catches Claire frowning down at the ball, although probably more in response to his reminder of her day. She’d greeted him with a sunny smile and a joke about their clandestine meeting, so her mood couldn’t be that dark.</p><p>“Every time I think Morgan’s an actual decent human being with the capacity for genuine compassion,” Claire finally explains, “she goes all scorched earth on me.” Picking the ball up, she tests the weight, setting it back in the tray once she’s satisfied it’ll do. Since there isn’t anyone in the next lane, she slides into the neighboring scorer’s chair beside where he’s draped his suit jacket.</p><p>He put himself first on their scoreboard, so Neil picks up his ball and tests his grip on it. “Morgan’s just frustrated. And she’s been through a tough time lately.” Claire doesn’t respond so he lines up his shot and lets loose his roll of the ball, knocking down six pins.</p><p>Turning back around to wait for his ball to return, he frowns when he notices her smirk. “I’m just warming up,” he says, dismissing her judgement with a wave of the hand.</p><p>“Sure,” Claire drawls, propping one of her feet up on the chair to get comfortable. “You’re right, though. About Morgan,” she adds, rolling her eyes at his questioning grin. “You know, seeing Morgan’s family explained some things, but there’s a lot I just do not get. She’s so good and has the drive to excel at whatever she wants. But it’s like she can’t stop herself from trying to go after the people around her, even when it’s unnecessary or to her detriment.” Claire shakes her head. “Park and I disagree a lot, but we’re better surgeons for supporting each other rather than trying to get the upper hand. Our fight the other day proves the point. He seems so mellow and focused, but he says he’s just as competitive as the rest of us.”</p><p>Hearing the rumble of his ball coming up the return track, Neil chuckles and waits for it to circle onto the rack. “I don’t know what gave you the impression that he’s not competitive. He and Morgan are from the same school of thought on that. Except where she’s doing the job with the frankness of a sledgehammer, he’s doing it with the precision of a scalpel.” While he lets that sink in, he takes his second roll, knocking down three more pins.</p><p>Neil grabs his beer and sits down next to her. “And you didn’t seem to mind when you benefited from Park’s methods. I know you heard about the mind games he played with Morgan to keep her from being the first of you to lead a surgery.” Claire rolls her eyes, but nods. “I’m not saying it'll ultimately matter for who gets chief resident or that it had any impact on Lim’s decision to designate you for the first surgery.” Smiling, he added, “On that, you were already the clear frontrunner.”</p><p>It was true – the entire senior surgical team thought Claire the best choice. She was the steadiest candidate to set the tone for the others. Murphy would need a particular approach; like several of the other residents in contention, they wanted to see slightly higher patient satisfaction scores from Park; and Morgan would best learn from getting the most challenging surgery rather than the first.</p><p>“Morgan isn’t shy about her ambition, and you know by now how insecure she is. And seeing how she is with her family I’m sure you can understand why. Claire, she’s still figuring herself out. Like all of us,” he reminds her.</p><p>Claire doesn’t answer. Instead, she unravels herself to walk slowly up to the rack as the pins reset.</p><p>“She was so nice to me after my mom died,” Claire says, picking up her ball. “Well, maybe not ‘nice’ but she supported me in this weird way that I hadn’t expected. I mean, she never got too sappy, and I’m sure she expects something in return, but I believe it really was her way of trying to help. Why be a jerk now?”</p><p>She turns and takes her first turn. Neil tries not to laugh at the cute image of her: very professional looking in a flowy blouse and slacks, holding a glowing pink bowling ball – and then finishing it off with tacky bowling shoes for her tiny feet. He’d sent a laughing emoji when she’d responded to his text about what size shoe to get her and then made a joke about checking the kids’ selection. He suspects he’ll pay for that at some point tonight. Besides, he knows he looks similarly silly.</p><p>Then he winces as he watches her ball knock down eight pins, although he hides it before she turns around to silently gloat.</p><p>“You know, she continues, arms crossed. “Something about her has been off lately.” She sighs as she waits for her ball to come back to her. “I don’t know what it is, but I wish she’d be honest about it. I’d want to help.”</p><p>Neil grins. “Of course, you would. And that’s probably why she doesn’t want to tell you. She is who she is, too.”</p><p>Claire’s annoyed glare tells him everything he needs to know about how well she’s receiving his advice. Turning her back to him, she takes her second shot, knocking over the remaining two pins. Dusting off her hands, she skips past him to retake her seat and cradle her beer.</p><p>Instead of rising to take his turn, he picks up his own drink and remains lounged in the scorer’s seat. It puts them in close proximity, the seats being bolted so close to each other, but Claire doesn’t seem to notice.</p><p>“Enough about Morgan. I’ve heard too much about her today already.” He gestures to her beer. “Why don’t you tell me how such a little person with such tiny feet can throw back a beer that size in less than five minutes? This is bowling alley, not a frat party.”</p><p>Recognizing his teasing by now, she laughs at the joke. “I wouldn’t know anything about that, but do tell. I bet you were one of those ‘big man on campus’ types’ Mr. Prom King.”</p><p>“That’s ‘His Royal Highness’ to you, plebe.”</p><p>“Shut up,” she grumbles but is also giggling. He loves hearing that sound from her – is glad to hear it after months of sadness. Only now does he realize how little he’s seen her laugh in the last few months.</p><p>Neil finally stands to retrieve his ball and line up his next shot. “I may have been known to frequent a party or two in college.”</p><p>He lets loose his ball knocking over the middle pins to leave a three-pin split. He curses under his breath and stands there assessing his options, hands on his hips. When he turns back around, Claire regards him with more sympathy than superiority.</p><p>“At least you have nice form,” she offers.</p><p>He warms at her remark. “Are you checking me out, Dr. Browne?” he asks, laughing. That’s probably the type of comment best left unsaid given their relationship. But as they slip from colleagues to friends, it’s the type of thing he has a hard time holding back these days.</p><p>“You wish, Melendez.” If Claire feels some kind of way about his quip, she doesn’t show it, which he appreciates. “Were you in a fraternity?” Claire asks, genuinely curious.</p><p>Neil shakes his head. “Nah, I didn’t really have time for it, and truthfully, it seemed kind of lame. I still went to the parties and had a good time without having to deal with bonehead frat boys every day. Besides, I got into enough trouble on my own.”</p><p>Claire seems shocked by that but keeps quiet until after he’s taken his shot, knocking down two of the three pins. When he returns to his seat, she shakes her head in disbelief. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine Neil Melendez being a wild child.”</p><p>He laughs. “You have no idea. I’m shocked Glassman ever hired me. But he saw my talent and took a chance. I’ve tried to always do right by him for it. And it’s why you should give Morgan a break.” Claire rolls her eyes and stands up to take her turn. But Neil doesn’t let her brush him off. “We all have things to learn when we’re just starting out, especially how to shake bad habits. Morgan needs to be less cutthroat, Murphy needs to communicate better, and Park, well he could stand to be a little more open-minded.”</p><p>“And me,” she asks as she makes her way around his chair.</p><p>Neil grins wickedly as he looks up at her. “You might want to work on being less of a pain in my ass.”</p><p>Letting out an indignant gasp, Claire snickers at the dig. “Well, unfortunately for you, tonight isn’t going to be the night for that.” She saunters toward the rack to grab her ball, head held high.</p><p>Truth be told, Neil actually considers Claire as close to perfect as he could hope for. In a resident, he adds to his thought. But he can’t have her knowing that she’s reached that level of impressiveness yet.</p><p>“Honestly, though, you’ve really worked on standing up for yourself – sometimes a little too well for my tastes – but you’ve still got some things to learn about believing in yourself. You’re an excellent surgeon. Trust in that, every time you step in that O.R., hell every time you step foot in the hospital, even.”</p><p>Claire gives him one of those open smiles of appreciation that he’s come to crave. “I, uh, I appreciate the feedback,” she stammers. He sees an adorable pink tint blooming across her cheeks as she turns to compose herself and size up her approach. It stirs something pleasant to know he can disarm her in that way.</p><p>Before she takes her shot, she calls over her shoulder, “And what did <em>you</em> learn during your residency? I always imagined you popping out of medical school fully formed. Like Athena or something.”</p><p>Waiting for her to roll before responding, he thinks about how wrong she is. He quiets his chuckles at seeing her three-pin split, though he makes a show of <em>not</em> commenting on it when she faces him again. “I could tell you stories,” he offers as she waits for her ball to come back.</p><p>“Please do,” she replies. They pause for her to take her second shot. He admires the way she takes a moment to consider her strategy and then jumps into motion, gliding her arm back gracefully and then releasing the ball, all her limbs aligning in perfect form. Like his previous frame, she knocks down two of the three pins but seems unbothered as she returns to eagerly hear more about his past while the pins reset.</p><p>Neil holds his glass tightly and turns his gaze in her direction. “Actually, I’m completely serious. When I first started my residency, it took me a little while to grow up and stop making questionable choices with my life. Glassman likes to remind me of that sometimes when I’m being stubborn.</p><p>“Questionable like dropping your personal trainer to take up Crossfit kind of bad choice or waking up on a park bench in someone else’s clothes-type bad?”</p><p>“Very funny,” he throws back at her, though he thinks it an amusing read on him. “More like partying with knucklehead high school friends too much and not making the most mature choices in the women I dated.” He cringes at the memory of his close calls. “I almost got arrested after one of my friends started a bar fight over these women we were trying to pick up. I had to skip surgeries for a week while my hand healed from the punch I’d landed on this guy. And then I had another month of scut work as punishment for getting myself in that situation in the first place, which Lim laughed about for months. Glassman told me to get my act together or get the hell out of his program. And I may have been reckless, but I was no fool. I knew what an amazing opportunity I had, and I wasn’t going to screw myself out of it.” He sighed dramatically. “So, I doubled down and became my brilliant self,” he finishes, turning to her with a cocky grin.</p><p>“Wow, Neil.” Claire stares at him as if he’s grown another head. Her shock makes him laugh as he gets up to bowl his next frame. She twists around to drape her arm over his empty chair and prop her head up, seemingly processing his backstory as he completes the roll and racks up seven more points.</p><p>She still hasn’t responded when he rejoins her, retreating from his sitting area to perch herself neatly in her own chair. Instead, she considers him for a moment and then silently rises to take her shot. It rather amuses him that he could confound her this much. Grabbing her ball, Claire looks at him as if she wants to respond, but then stops herself to face the lane and think about her strategy. But then she turns back to him. “Just one question.” Before he could fully register her movement, she twists back around, lines up her shot, and rockets the ball down the lane for a clean strike. Her fist pump and ridiculous happy dance back to her chair both annoys and delights him.</p><p>When she finally settles down next to him – an obligatory tap of his glass to hers to toast her skills – he finishes his beer and invites her to satisfy any curiosity about what he’s just shared. “Ask away,” he says, gesturing for her to get all her questions off her chest. And maybe he also hopes to distract her from gloating about her bowling prowess.</p><p>She picks up her glass and polishes off her drink as well. “So, Dr. Neil Melendez. Brilliant surgeon. Respected colleague. Patient and wise Attending Surgeon.”</p><p>“All true,” he confirms, smiling at her but also cautious about where this is going.</p><p>“Devoted friend,” she muses dreamily to his amusement. “Olympic-worthy runner with the physique of a male model—”</p><p>“—so you do notice,” he challenges, though she simply shrugs to match her elusive grin. They did now go to the same gym after all.</p><p>“Overcoming many odds,” she continues, “including intrepid frat bros and crazy high school friends. Dramatic girlfriends and bar foes. Are you telling me that in <em>all</em> that time and through <em>all</em> those experiences, with <em>everything</em> you’ve been through?”</p><p>She pauses for dramatic effect and he raises a questioning brow, waiting for her to just ask the damn question.</p><p>“<em>None</em> of that taught you any useful skills to help you win against me at bowling?” she asks straight-faced. Then she hops to her feet, letting her playful smirk linger as she enjoys her own smug joke. She also grabs the empty glass from his stunned fingers.</p><p>“What? Oh no, you …” Neil straightens in his chair, trying to get in a decent retort, but she’s already headed to the bar for a refresh of their drinks.</p><p>Neil considers plotting an appropriate comeback for when she returns. But he realizes he loves seeing this confident side to her and enjoys even more the comfortable sparring that has become so much a part of their friendship. In the midst of all the heavy stuff they talk through as she grieves and heals herself, there’s also a lot of goading each other during their runs or making fun of each other at work when the others aren’t around. So, he figures he could let this one slide.</p><p>And she <em>is</em> beating him. For the moment.</p><p>When she rejoins him, she hands him a fresh beer and resumes her curled up position on the seat next to him. He knows he should get up and continue with the game – start working on his comeback. But something about basking in the glow of her keeps him in his seat, shoulder to shoulder. He gazes at her over the rim of his glass as he takes a pull of his drink and then sets it down slowly. He leans in as if telling her a particularly salacious secret.</p><p>“Night’s still young, Claire,” his low voice teases. He winks at her as he rises to step up to the ball rack and begin his road to finally besting her.</p><p>Glancing back at her again, he watches as she smiles easy and trusting and focused on him. Her demeanor is relaxed and content compared to the tension earlier in the day when they’d staged that fight for Morgan and Andrews. Claire has become, he realizes, the welcome bit of company to disrupt one too many lonely nights at the bar or in his empty house.</p><p>Neil thinks he can get used to this.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I figure if Neil can best Claire at running, she can best him at bowling!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. ... or a Neighborhood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warning: there are definitely some character death triggers in this chapter. But eerily, I wrote about 90% of this a few weeks ago. That made it hard to revisit, but there's a lot that I love about the conversation here. I made some tweaks to fit the timeline and canon story, but kept most of it is the same. I think all the forthcoming chapters will unintentionally have that bittersweet echo no matter what I do, but still have fun moments that I liked to imagine.</p><p>Thanks all for reading through the pain. I promise, I have other stories with much easier to digest and uplifting AU shenanigans.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"We are who we are."</p><p>Neil tries to hide a quick glance at Claire as they jog down the sidewalk, gauging her reaction to his words. He sometimes catches glimpses of the wounded version of her he found in the stairwell. Remembering that tragic fragility encourages him to always be careful with her feelings, especially when she's trying her best to appear unshakeable. Convinced her silence is more thoughtful than self-deprecating, he wordlessly follows Claire toward their street route rather than going through the park.</p><p>He hasn’t seen much of her, not since earlier in the day. Her schedule showed a packed shift with the usual slate of patients and procedures – not to mention the extra work when she agreed to help Morgan take time off to be with her sick mother. His day hadn’t been much better. Between recurring ER patients, the extra drama of monitoring a resident’s family member, and his administrative duties taking up more time that he’d like, he’d had to step out on the balcony for a few minutes to catch a few clean, calming breaths. It’s one of those days that he’s glad to leave the hospital behind for a while.</p><p>Technically, Neil could have gone home an hour ago to enjoy a recently purchased bottle of scotch and a full lineup of sports on the TV. Yet standing at the rail looking out into the city, he instead texted Claire about a late night run together. And he found himself relieved to have her accept.</p><p>After a long day, an empty house was a poor alternative to her company on a crisp, clear night.</p><p>They’ve become good running partners. Although Neil’s stride measures almost twice that of Claire’s, he comfortably compensates to adjust to her shorter steps, but quicker pace. Running together a few times a week has also familiarized him with her habits. She prefers to run in the morning and will occasionally beat him in a quarter mile around the track. She’s quick to rise to a taunt, which he’s used to his advantage when he notices her getting in her head too much as they run. Even though she always brings a fleece jacket – it usually ending up wrapped around her waist by the time they’re done – she hates running in windy weather and will wimp out no matter how much he teases her about it. Because she’s still too hesitant to outright ask him to run with her, they’ve fallen into a routine of sorts, agreed upon by some unspoken mutual understanding. They do tend to avoid each other at the gym, though, mainly because Claire’s more into cardio while he focuses on weight training. But also because it feels a little too intimate.</p><p>Neil can grudgingly admit to himself that watching her body in motion like that, usually wearing fewer layers than their runs, is distracting. They aren't doing anything improper, but after everything with Audrey and Jessica, he’s not trying to raise any more eyebrows about work fraternization.</p><p>They both wave as they pass the neighborhood taco truck parked alongside hospital grounds. The owner, Connie, waves back from where she's handing out an order. Her truck receives pretty heavy foot traffic until around midnight, and there are more than the usual number of people waiting in line for their food. The crowd did surprise him. Perhaps it being the first nice evening after a week of rain has people eager to get out. Continuing along the main road, the sound of his and Claire’s footfalls soothe him, their steady breaths signaling a leisurely pace that should give them plenty of opportunity to unwind.</p><p>Except Claire keeps giving him the eye. As they turn down the first block to pass by a stretch of mostly closed storefronts, her furtive glances at him start to get unnerving.</p><p>“Well?” she says, expecting him to pick up on some dangling conversation they’re supposed to be having.</p><p>Neil frowns at having gotten lost in his thoughts, though he tries to hide his confusion from her. “Well, what?”</p><p>“Well, I told you mine. Now it’s your turn. What would you do if you only had six months to live?”</p><p>He’s forgotten they’d been discussing the amusing, if rather morbid situation of his latest patient. When she’d brought up the case after hearing Murphy mention it, he’d gleefully given her an update.</p><p>“I guess I’ve never thought about it. I’d probably want what most people imagine – to be surrounded by the people I love. Family, kids, grandkids.”</p><p>She rolls her eyes. “That’s really boring. Sweet, but boring." He shrugs and smirks at her. "On the other hand, Morgan said she’d spend her six months at different spas and then kill herself in the tub.”</p><p>Neil chuckles. “I know I shouldn’t laugh but—”</p><p>“—it is a little dramatic. Even for Morgan. But it’s been a rough day for her. Anyway, Shaun said he’d stay a surgeon.”</p><p>“Makes sense. There’s nothing he loves more. And there’s something to spending your last days doing the thing you love more than anything, especially if it means helping people.” He nudges her with his elbow. “I’m sure you can relate to that.” Claire’s glare at his poking fun at her, only makes him laugh, and after a couple of beats, she laughs with him.</p><p>They run for another few minutes, thinking on the rather grim question. He’d been teasing her, but Neil thinks Claire’s fantasy sounds pretty much as he'd expect given her recent struggles.</p><p>“You know,” he says after they circle back to the main road. “I don’t think it even matters how we’d answer that question. It depends so much on where we are in our life right now. If I got that kind of diagnosis tomorrow, maybe I’d want to quit my job and go thrill-seeking like my patient. But if it happened after a full life, maybe I’d be more inclined to want the remote house and chickens and foster dogs.”</p><p>She snickers at that, but nods, understanding his point.</p><p>“I guess you’re right,” Claire replies. “Although, I see you as more of a beach guy rather than a cabin in the middle of nowhere kind of person. I can’t see you chopping wood and collecting river water.”</p><p>“Look who’s talking!” Neil throws back at her, grinning wildly.</p><p>“Hey, I grew up in a trailer, which isn’t too far removed.”</p><p>“And I remember plenty of days growing up without electricity or running water. How’s that for rustic living?”</p><p>“Did you ever have to scavenge for food?” she counters.</p><p>“How many of your grandmother’s homeopathic remedies did <em>you</em> scrounge together in your kitchen?” They exchange challenging, expectant glares at each other as they jog in place to wait for the crosswalk signal to change.</p><p>And then they both burst out laughing.</p><p>Claire’s giggles subside as they cross the street and resume their pace. This isn’t the first time they’ve gone toe to toe in jest about how poor their upbringings were. How far they’ve both come in the world.</p><p>“Alright, Melendez, this time I’m the one who’s not buying it.” She grins at his puzzled expression. “I think no matter what happens, you won’t want to be alone. I can see you surrounded by a beautiful wife and kids and friends and colleagues. I see you trying to be strong for everyone even if you’re scared, making jokes to put the people you love at ease.”</p><p>Neil catches her shy glance his way, perhaps worried she’s overstepped. He feels his lungs catch before settling, maybe a sign of exertion or an echo of his mortality as seen through her eyes. He notices a flush to her cheek, maybe a sign of her own exertion or the embarrassment at sharing her thoughts of him.</p><p>But he appreciates the scene she paints. “I can’t say you’re wrong about that. It does sound nice, now that you lay it out.” When he catches her attention again, he smiles a bit shyly himself. “I’d probably want someone I love there to hold my hand. Someone who’ll stay with me so I know it’s okay to let go. Whether it’s my partner or my sister or my kids and grandkids I’d want to hold them, look into their eyes and cherish how much I love them and am loved in return, even if it's painful.”</p><p>He tries not to notice Claire stumble a bit, so engrossed in his words. “That’s …” she laughs, a little embarrassed at how moved she is by him. “That’s really nice. Thanks for telling me that.”</p><p>Nodding at her, they turn another corner and enjoy the quiet sounds of the emptying streets. “Of course,” he adds, breaking the light tension. “I’d probably crack a few jokes too.” It has the desired effect of amusing her, the cute little crinkle in her nose making an appearance.</p><p>“Just so you know, at some point, I <em>will</em> have my life figured out," she replies. "And maybe I won’t mind being surrounded by more of that kind of thing when I go." She sighs, "It just feels so impossible right now. I know that’s dramatic too and that I’m really lucky in a lot of ways, but my default has been pretty much ‘go-it-alone’ for most of my life.”</p><p>Neil directs her to cross the street at the corner. “Yes, luck has had something to do with how far you’ve come from that trailer. But most of it’s been your hard work. That counts for a lot. I know you feel like all you’re doing is trying to fix yourself right now. A lot of us feel that way from time to time. And it’s probably hard to see yourself any other way. You’ll get there, though, whatever and wherever the ‘there’ is for you when you finally figure it out.”</p><p>He pauses, examines her in profile and admires how she pushes through her grief with every step. Taking a chance, he adds, “And more importantly, one day you’ll see yourself as someone’s best comfort in that kind of moment, too. You’ll be brave enough to tell them that they’re loved and accept that you’re loved in return. And when you hold their hand so they won’t be scared, you’ll be the only person in the world they’ll want by their side.</p><p>They jog in silence, Claire lost in her thoughts, at ease but pensive. “When my friend Kayla passed away, I saw that up close. Dash sat by her side, letting her know that he loved her and that he’d be fine so it was okay to go. It was beautiful and terrifying and it shook me, you know, to really understand that kind of connection.”</p><p>“I think that you’ll have that one day, too, Claire. We both will,” he says, smiling warmly. Assuredly. And he means it, too. She smiles back, and he once again brightens at being able to lift her up when she gets too down on herself.</p><p>That time when he'd treated her friend had been some of the most difficult weeks for the two of them, estranged and stubborn at their impasse. It didn’t feel great to remember Claire’s awkward but heartfelt request to help Kayla – or remembering his hurt at realizing that she truly feared his anger and disappointment were greater than his compassion. And he <em>had</em> been angry and disappointed that she’d overstepped a boundary and forced his hand; given him no choice but to punish her no matter how creative her idea or how much he enjoyed mentoring her. Working alongside her again, seeing her talent and the genuine joy over the months they’d added to her friend’s life, it had been frustrating.</p><p>It also reminds him of how far they’ve come since then. How far they have yet to go.</p><p>“Ugh, this is too heavy,” she complains, making a small leap over an uneven crack in the sidewalk. “Between this and hearing way too much about Shaun's sex life and quest for the perfect female orgasm, I'm at my limit for weird conversations."</p><p>"Please tell me I misheard something." Neil says, not sure he wants to know the details. He can't avoid tales of his other resident's rather enthusiastic romantic journey, but he's thankfully been spared this latest chapter.</p><p>Claire laughs at his reaction. "No way. We are <em>not</em> talking about that. Just don't mention anything about parades. It's the unsafest of words right now. Or you can ask him yourself and be traumatized like the rest of us." They both shake off his curious reaction. He trusts her judgement not to dig any deeper on that topic. "I'd rather talk about what I <em>won’t</em> be doing with a mortality deadline. Like being at work. Sorry, Shaun, but if I had only six months to live, I’d be out the door and on a beach.”</p><p>Neil laughs. “What happened to the house in the middle of nowhere?”</p><p>“I didn’t say I’d go there directly. Or maybe the house is somewhere in Hawaii.”</p><p>Shaking his head, Neil speeds up their pace a bit. Claire matches his stride. “That’s a cheat answer. But important decision: internet or no internet?” he asks.</p><p>“Good question.” She ponders that for a few beats. “Internet, if possible. That way I could watch Netflix. I think a regular dose of The Great British Bakeoff would be good for my disposition.”</p><p>Neil’s confusion seems to amuse her. “I didn’t know you baked.”</p><p>Rolling her eyes, Claire nudges him with her elbow. “I don’t. That’s why I watch the show.”</p><p>“You are very strange,” he mutters. “I do have another question, though.” They turn another corner to take them past the park entrance. If short on time, they sometimes cut through during their runs, but it seems a little too late, and they could use the extra mileage running the full perimeter. “What’s up with the chickens?”</p><p>“For the eggs, of course,” she responds as if obvious.</p><p>“And then you’ll just leave them there to starve? Or get eaten by the foster dogs?” Claire laughs. “Or are you planning to go full caveman and cook them as your last meal, which is a lot of chicken to consume in one night by the way.”</p><p>At that, Claire looks horrified. “Uh, no! But if I did, the dogs would eat some too, I’m sure. I’d obviously make arrangements for the chickens and the dogs.”</p><p>“Obviously.” She gave him a stern look, but he can tell she enjoys his glib reply. “But don’t go knocking on my door for that ask. I will not be your chicken handler.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t dream of it, Neil” she assures him, chuckling. It’s still relatively new, but he does very much enjoy hearing her use his first name. It puts them on equal footing and makes it easier to talk like this. Even in the OR, he calls her Claire more often than Dr. Browne so it seems only fair.</p><p>They run in silence again for another block, and he’s happy to see her so relaxed, seemingly unburdened for a little while from all the emotions she’s been fighting since he found her in that stairwell. He’s glad for this time with her, that he can see her like this and come to appreciate a whole different side to her. He finds they’ve been forging a friendship he’s coming to value very much. It's that appreciation for her that brings him to confesses the one thing that's lingered in his mind during their entire conversation.</p><p>“Well, for everyone’s sake, I hope you’re around for a very long time, Claire” he says to her.</p><p>She turns to him and stares, almost expecting to sense a joke or falsehood. As her eyes soften, he can tell she recognizes his sincerity, a reflection of their mutual respect and affection.</p><p>Neil didn’t expect it, but saying something like that out loud, it strikes something deep inside him, too. The thought of a world without Claire Browne felt all wrong. It physically pains him to consider having to say goodbye to her like that. Or at all. The gratitude and acceptance in her eyes matches his own warmth. </p><p>Hoping to lighten the mood, he adds, “I mean, you do have <em>a lot</em> of details about your six-month plan to work out.”</p><p>Claire gasps. “You!” she shoves him onto the grassy lawn of the hospital grounds before taking off toward the next marker for their run. When he recovers, he takes off after her, knowing that if she gets a lead, she’ll shoot out way past him to their stopping point. Before they started stretching, they’d agreed on their usual bet.</p><p>Loser buys the tacos.</p><p>He chases her for a block before finally coming up on her heels as they approach the bench they’d started from. With only a couple dozen yards left, he knows he can overtake her. Yet instead, he keeps his pace and watches her easily skip past the finish line, trailing her by only a few feet. As they slow to a jog that'll ease into a cool-down, he accepts that he doesn’t mind letting her have this one.</p><p>For now, they have all the time in the world, and he’ll get her on the next one.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. ... or an Office</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Or in this case, just the Prom King. A little bit of a different angle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neil stands stunned as Audrey Lim finishes explaining that someone has accused him of favoritism. Towards Claire.</p><p>He wonders if it’s one of the other residents, maybe Park after he’d sided with Claire about their patient and her young daughter today. Usually pretty level-headed, Park had clearly been annoyed when Claire’s more empathic perspective on the situation had swayed him. Or maybe it’s Andrews trying to stir up trouble, although he seemed to be feuding with Lim these days in nitpicking her performance as chief of surgery.</p><p>Not that it matters. Audrey is not pleased, probably for a host of reasons.</p><p>He’s confident there’s nothing to the complaint. He and Claire run together in public a few times a week. Besides that, their professional interactions haven’t changed much. They still joke and chat about silly things while waiting for scans or walk out together occasionally at the end of the day, usually touching base about a case. Ever since he’d found her in that stairwell, he’s kept an eye on her for any signs of depression or anxiety and asked on occasion how therapy is going. There'd been one intense moment after losing their young patient and hospital prom queen, Angie, when he'd confronted Claire about bottling up her emotions. Other than that, though, she’s been dealing reasonably well, 'trying to fix herself' as she's complained. The running has been helping, he’s glad to see, and he’s relieved at how open she’s been to talking through her feelings with him. They’re even on a mutual first name basis now outside of work, which he thinks is nice.</p><p>Maybe that’s it. Did someone overhear them being so familiar?</p><p>Reasoning in circles isn’t going to help things now, he thought to himself. Probably the smart way to deal with Audrey is to accept the situation and vow to rectify it directly. Based on how she’s carrying herself, she’s trying to remain neutral and productive, but he can tell she’s annoyed.</p><p>Yet as the seconds tick by and her accusation sinks in, Neil isn’t thinking about the smart thing, but rather his own irritation.</p><p>“I don’t know what to say,” he finally responds. “I’m being a good mentor. Are you telling me I’m not supposed to do that now?”</p><p>"That’s not what I’m saying. But I have to ask, are you being a good mentor to all of your residents or just Claire? You said there isn’t anything improper going on, but obviously you do know that there’s some behavior that that needs an explanation.”</p><p>“No, it doesn’t. It’s just an occasional run around the hospital grounds. And, of course, I’m being a good mentor to all of them. I’ve had to listen to way more details about Murphy’s love life than anyone – especially HR – would tolerate. I spent a week helping Morgan get her research paper formatted for publication last month and took Park to the AMA regional meeting with me so he could network. I’ve had to learn to work well with Claire in the last three years, so I’m not buying that I play favorites.” Lim seems to relax somewhat at hearing his counterargument. "If anything, <em>you</em> put a target on her back by giving her the first lead surgery. Now everyone knows she’s the front-runner for chief resident.”</p><p>“Not necessarily. She earned that spot, and she’ll have to keep it,” Lim defends.</p><p>“Which makes it even more likely that someone is looking to disrupt that. She’s gifted. You know she is. And if ‘she’ were a ‘he,’ we wouldn’t be having this discussion,” Neil accuses.</p><p>Audrey crosses her arms, not appreciating this particular line of argument. “Wouldn’t we, Neil? You’re still spending time with one of your residents outside of work to the exclusion of the others. Are you planning to ride the bus home with Dr. Murphy a few days a week or hit the batting cages with Dr. Park?”</p><p>“So now you want me to run an extracurricular program for all my residents just so I can do a completely innocent and normal activity with one of them?”</p><p>Lim stares at him, recognizing how agitated he’s become from her interrogation. Dropping her arms, she leans against the back of one of his chairs hoping to de-escalate the situation.</p><p>“I’m saying you need to make sure you’re covering your bases,” she finally admits.</p><p>Neil takes a silent but deep cleansing breath to calm himself down. He knows Audrey is trying to find a reasonable solution so maybe he can meet her halfway.</p><p>“You of all people know how rocky my professional relationship with Claire has been in the past. I think we’ve earned this rapport. And the benefit of the doubt.”</p><p>“I remember you being royally pissed and also upset to kick her off your service.” She smirks at him, likely remembering the awkwardness she’d witnessed between him and Claire around that time. Gauging his tense reaction over the memory as well, she turns serious. “And yes, you were pissed about her challenging your authority, but it was also personal. You hated letting her go and mourned that relationship even though you were angry. I get it, and I’m on your side. That’s why I need to make sure everyone involved is protected here.”</p><p>Neil’s piercing eyes hold Audrey’s, full of frustration and several emotions he can’t quite decipher at the moment. Audrey doesn’t back down. If anything, she seems calmer than when she’d arrived. Relenting, Neil attempts to unclench his body as he wanders back behind his desk and sits. Audrey follows suit, taking a proper seat in front of him.</p><p>“Okay. Let’s figure this out. Can we talk confidentially? She said I could share this with you if I needed to,” he says, turning gravely serious.</p><p>“Of course,” Lim replies.</p><p>“My interest <em>is</em> more than just skills-building. But it’s not what you or anyone might be thinking.” Lim doesn’t give anything away in her expression upon hearing his admission. “Audrey, she was drowning. I knew something was off with her these past few months, but I was dealing with my own stuff and left it for her peers to handle. I should have known it had to be bad if Morgan was covering for her.” They both crack a smile, amused by the ongoing rivalry between the two surgeons. “But Claire’s irritability persisted. Then it got worse.”</p><p>He leans back, tense and sad. “The day of her first lead surgery, you saw how wound up she was, how complicated it ended up being with the patient’s mom.”</p><p>Lim nods. “She told me how nervous she was. I scolded her a bit about sharing that with her boss. But I understood, and I appreciated that she trusted me enough to confide in me.”</p><p>“I didn’t know that,” he says, a soft smile warming his face. He turns away for a moment, missing Lim’s frown at his reaction. “I’m glad. I’m sure it helped. And she did great. She was steady the whole time, excelling through the nerves. I was really proud of her. I wish I had told her then,” he adds sadly.</p><p>“This is the part I’d like to keep between us. She hasn’t told many people. I think she will but she’s still working through things, and it’s been hard. She told me later, months later, that her mother had been staying with her at the time. Claire drug tested her every two days, insisted she stay on her meds and see her therapist. They’d even gone to her mom’s therapist together and worked through some things. After Claire’s surgery, her mom left her a voicemail telling her how proud she was. She’d made Claire dinner to celebrate and had gone out to get dessert.” </p><p>“I don’t think I like where this is going. I’ve only heard a few of the off-hand comments, but I know Claire didn’t have much in the way of a happy childhood.”</p><p>“It’s one of the first personal details about her life I learned. We’d been up late trying to find a solution for the Kunkler twins’ surgery.” Lim nods, remembering that difficult loss for him. “I was preoccupied over my problems with Jess, and Claire tried to get me to understand Jess’s point of view – that some women are lucky to realize they don’t want kids before they have them. Luckier than her mom. She’d tried to downplay it, but I could tell I’d struck a nerve. And yet she still convinced me that loving someone like I loved Jess could be enough.” Lim raises an eyebrow at that. “Okay, maybe she wasn’t right about that, but I appreciated the kindness.” They both chuckle. It seems like ancient history at this point.</p><p>“Anyway, as Claire is leaving the hospital after the surgery and listening to that voicemail, she gets a call from her mom. Except it’s the police calling from her mom’s cell phone. She’d just been killed. DUI.” Lim’s taken aback, still surprised even though she’d prepared herself for something awful. “It gets worse. When Claire got to the scene, she found an empty bottle of champagne in the car. Claire had hidden it to have after her surgery. The one bottle of alcohol she hadn’t thrown out that morning. Her mom found it and must have been drinking when she went out.”</p><p>“Damn,” Lim says. “That’s…” She shakes her head, searching for the right words. “That’s terrible. I had no idea.”</p><p>Neil nods, understanding that frustration. “It shook her, Audrey. Her sadness and her anger at her mother spun her out of control. But worse, she blamed herself. Blamed her compassion and her hope for something good between them. She couldn’t process it. Couldn’t mourn. And she didn’t really have anyone to talk to about it or anyone insisting she see a therapist. She’d recently lost one of her closest friends to cancer and after the mom’s death, she pushed everyone else out of her life.”</p><p>“Didn’t you treat her friend last year? Back when the two of you were still squabbling.”</p><p>He nods, though frowns at her characterization of it. “I’d heard when she passed away, but Claire had prepared herself for it. This was something completely different. Her grief had nowhere to go except inward.” Neil sighed and leaned forward, folding his hands tightly on the desk. His voice dropping as if shielding their conversation from imaginary people in the room. “I don’t know the full extent of things and I’m not going to gossip about it, but from what I gathered, she was drinking too much, spending too much time … out.”</p><p>There’s no way he’ll shame Claire for sleeping around. People did a lot of unhealthy things when they were hurting, and her way of coping didn't deserve any more judgement than anything else. Her frankness about it with him had been difficult for her, the vulnerability and embarrassment almost making it too intimate and raw for her to share. And Audrey didn’t need to know every detail.</p><p>Not wanting to invite any further questions on that, Neil continued. “Morgan at first tried to help her, and I think it kept Claire from spinning completely out of control. Shaun was wrapped up in his own issues, but Park finally said something as well.” He sighed. “And then she broke.”</p><p>Audrey waits for Neil to say more, not rushing, but curious. But he can’t, not yet. All he can think about are the echoes of her sobs, the tremor he could feel against his hand as he gripped her shoulder. The dampness against his chest as she cried and cried against him.</p><p>“What happened,” Audrey urges.</p><p>Neil taps a finger against the desk, trying to push down his emotions of that day to answer – the despair and guilt and helplessness he still felt. “She'd gotten into it with a patient's wife. I found her in the stairwell sobbing. I’d never seen her like that. Defeated and so, just, miserable. I sat with her for a long time while she cried. She told me some of what was going on and it was a first step.”</p><p>“That I heard about. When that patient’s wife complained, I had to deal with the situation. I assumed Claire got in between their messiness unwittingly. Claire wasn’t forthcoming on any of the details besides having hooked up with the guy the night before.”</p><p>“It was an awful situation," he agrees. "But she finally decides to see a therapist after that. Then being wrong about the drug mule patient? When that young girl died, the one she organized the prom for? It had her questioning herself again. I couldn’t watch that and do nothing. She’s so talented. You find a lot of smart people in this program and you can teach a lot of things. But what she has, what she can do for patients is rare and special. So, yes, I want her to do well. But she’s also a colleague who I saw struggling and who I thought I could help. So we started running together, and she talks to me about the things I’m telling you. And I really believe it helps.” He pauses. “And maybe it helps me too. We mostly talk about what’s going on with her life and stuff. I don't really talk about us. But I think I needed a friend, too, to help me mourn a few things of my own.”</p><p>Again, they sat in silence, both thinking about their former relationship and then their colleague’s situation and how sad it all was.</p><p>Finally, Lim leans back, almost sagging in her chair. “I get it. I know you, Neil, and I know her too. I don’t think anything inappropriate is going on. And she has been doing well lately. I can also see how someone else on the team might interpret your professional relationship as favoritism. Just be careful.”</p><p>“I suppose,” he starts, sighing and leaning back himself. “I suppose I can reassure my team and be a little more self-aware.” Conceding the point, he offers, “I’ll be more careful.”</p><p>Lim tilts her head, narrowing her eyes to scrutinize his response and settling on being not entirely satisfied. “Neil, when I say ‘be careful,’ I don’t just mean with the other residents or doctors here. Be careful with yourself.”</p><p>Confused, Neil straightens in his chair. “I thought you said you understood?” His irritation flares up once more. “We’re just friends and colleagues, Audrey.”</p><p>“Yes, I believe you are. And that’s how it starts. You’ll be friends until you aren’t.”</p><p>Neil scoffs. “Like I said before, you wouldn’t be questioning this if she were a guy. There wouldn’t be rumors and no one would blink at the time we spend together outside of work. Would it be better if we were playing golf or going to a baseball game? It should matter that I’m a good mentor to her. Sexual attraction isn’t in the equation. I’m her boss for god’s sake.”</p><p>“I’m your boss too, and sexual attraction was definitely part of our equation,” Lim jokes, grinning wolfishly.</p><p>“It’s not the same and you know it,” Neil says, still annoyed but also amused at her humor. “We’re not making out in cars or hooking up in an on-call room. She's a grown woman and colleague, not some naive school girl. And I'm not Coyle. We've worked mostly just fine for three years, and almost all of our contact outside of the hospital is our runs.”</p><p>“Regular runs where you share details about your lives and joke together and are otherwise building an intimacy that could get you into trouble. And Neil, I know I don’t have to tell you that she’s beautiful and brilliant and kind. And so are you. She’s gone through something terribly traumatic, and you’ve been there for her.” Neil looks away, lips pursed and shoulders tense. “I’m glad you were there for her,” Lim amends. “But she’s your protégé precisely because you get along so well. You challenge each other and support each other and with this added depth to your relationship, it’s natural for things to grow from that. I’m just saying to make sure that friendship is where it stays.” The last she delivers rather sternly and then stands, ignoring his deepening glare.</p><p>“I don’t have those kinds of feelings for her, Audrey. And I don’t favor her.” He looks up to meet her skeptical gaze and relents just a bit "But, I’ll keep that in mind.”</p><p>“See that you do. I’m not saying it to be a jerk. It’s not some jealousy thing. It’s because I’m your boss. And I’m your friend. And I’m trying to help. Figure it out because I expect this to just blow over. I don’t want things to get any more dramatic than they already have been.” She heads toward his door, satisfied that she’s said her peace. “Talk to them in the morning and fix this.”</p><p>“Will do,” Neil calls out from his desk. A slight smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks, Boss.”</p><p>“Watch it,” she responds, but smirks back and leaves his office.</p><p>Neil absently picks up his pen and twirls it in his hand. He knows Audrey means well, but it feels unfair. He’s been trying to do a good thing, and the rumor mill is driving a Mac truck right through all his good intentions. The idea that he and Claire are being inappropriate is preposterous. Yet, the little cocoon he and Claire have been running and laughing and sharing in has finally been invaded by reality.</p><p>Assuring the team that he doesn’t have favorites is one thing, but what is he going to do about talking through this with Claire? The fact that they’ve been able to start this friendship is something he values after everything they’ve been through. He can't be another person to abandon her. He'll have to make her understand that.</p><p>Maybe he'd have to take a line from Audrey’s book. ‘There’s something awkward we need to talk about.’</p><p>The buzz next to him signals a new text coming in and his immediate response is to smile at seeing Claire’s name flash across the screen.</p><p>
  <em>Mom &amp; Marla resting. Park logging charts. I’m on rounds.</em>
</p><p>Neil texts back a quick “Thx”</p><p>
  <em>Marla told me to send you this.  </em>
</p><p>He waits for the next message and sees a picture of a big stuffed bunny rabbit, with Claire hiding not very inconspicuously behind it, one eye visible over its ears. He laughs and taps on the picture to enlarge it. He catches the genuine gleam of happiness in her one visible eye and the wide grin as she looks at the little girl and her mom, likely the one taking the picture. It warms him to see her so happy and enjoying her patients. God, she’s going to be a great mom, he thinks to himself, filled with joy at the idea. To respond, he pulls up his emoji screen and lets his finger hover over the smiley with the hearts. It’s the perfectly captures how he feels seeing that picture of her.</p><p>But then he hesitates. What would someone think if they saw this? What would Lim think? He scrolls down and sends a neutral thumbs up and then tosses his phone across his desk.</p><p>He can’t deny that spending time with her is one of the few highlights to his lonely days. Being there for her is starting to matter a lot to him. Neil thinks the whole thing is ridiculous, but if someone is already making waves, then that is going to complicate both his life and Claire’s. And Claire is too talented to be hindered by rumors and speculation. He’s not happy about any of this, but Lim’s points are well-taken.</p><p>Giving up on her isn’t an option. But maybe things do need to change.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks all for reading. I'm working on a few different stories right now, two of them multi-chapter ones. I don't like to start posting until I've completed a decent draft of the whole story so those will take a little bit of time. </p><p>In the meantime, I hope to keep doing a few one-offs to mix things up. My day job involves a lot of policy writing and my work is somewhat related to the pandemic going on. So preventing screen-time fatigue slows me down too. But I can't wait to share some of the lovely scenes I've been writing. </p><p>Wishing everyone wellness!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>